Poem 24, June 24


When all emotions


When all emotions surge thru me,

keeping me awake in a lonely room,

I close my eyes to find you.

I listen for your voice

until I hear it,


as the first whip-poor-will

in May.


My life no longer drains away

like Old Seventy Creek flowing downhill,

& my sleepless, closed eyes are able

to write words on eyelids, poet

that I am by want, need, by choice.

I have a bottle of Amaretto for you,

its taste a little bitter & there is one bloom

in a blue vase. Slowly,


I open my eyes to avoid apologizing

to you for plucking a bearded daylily.